


A Perfect Slice

by mythicgeek (mysticshell)



Category: Havemercy Series - Jaida Jones & Danielle Bennett
Genre: Bloodplay, Brothers, Incest, M/M, Male Slash, Sibling Incest, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticshell/pseuds/mythicgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thom watches Rook practice his knife-play and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Slice

The shine of light glinting off the perfect edges of Rook's knives is the most beautiful and blinding thing Thom's ever seen. He's taken to watching him practice, watching Rook move like a swift, like some kind of dangerous poetry in motion. He's fluid, and the knives aren't so much weapons as they are extension of his own hands.

It makes Thom's mouth dry watching, and his hands clench at whatever's nearest. He's managed to keep his presence undetected so far, at least he thinks so.

A perfect spin and thrust from Rook, and Thom leans forward, knocking over Merritt's boots. The sound's not that loud, but it's enough to break Rook's concentration and that has him spinning on a dime and letting a knife fly.

It buries itself in the wall only inches from Thom's head.

Rook's eyes narrow and his voice hisses out like a snake's. "Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed?" He comes over, not to check to see if Thom's all right but to pull his knife from the wall, and make sure it's unharmed.

Thom's shaking, just a little, because deep down, he's still a bit afraid of Rook, of his unpredictability, and of those knives. He always thinks Rook can smell his fear, because he did that first time, and so he tries to quell it now.

But Rook doesn't move. He looks down at Thom, the sneer on his lips hooking back into a smirk. "How long have you been watching? And I don't just mean today."

Thom's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "A week." He doesn't try to hide it - Rook's always dangerous, but he's worse now with knives in his hand.

As if he knows what Thom's thinking, Rook slides one of his perfect knives along Thom's arm, up his shoulder, over to his neck to lay flat against his skin. He can practically see when Thom's heart rate picks up, and he laughs, the sound low and ominous. "Coulda killed you real easy just now. Still can, and you couldn't do shit about it, you know that?"

He tilts the knife and draws it slowly, lightly downward. It's a barely-there kiss of metal to skin, but the knife's so sharp it leaves behind a long line of red welling up and trickling down the blade's edge.

Rook lifts the knife and he doesn't take his eyes off Thom's, as he carefully licks the blade clean. Thom's eyes go wide, and it's all Rook can do not to laugh at him. But there's still blood sliding down Thom's neck, a drop or two already on his collar bone. It's calling Rook and he answers, dipping his head and licking up the bloody line he made.

Thom's heart's beating even faster now and Rook doesn't want to admit his is too. Thom hasn't said more than those two words, and it's the first time Rook's ever gotten the little professor to just shut up. It doesn't surprise him it took bloodshed.

It does surprise him that they both seem to be enjoying it. Rook's mouth twists again and he repeats the slide of knife and the tasting of Thom's blood on the other side, with another knife. He wants them all anointed in Thom's blood, wants his tongue bathed in it as well.

A smear of blood's on Rook's lip when he lifts his head this time, and Thom's just staring at him, his eyes still wide and his mouth hanging open like a cheap whore's. Rook responds in kind and takes the offering, a kiss that's a mashing of mouth, trading the taste of copper on lips and tongue.

Watching Rook practice his art is no longer foremost on Thom's mind, not when it's all he can do to stand up under that assault. But he's not backing down, not running away, because he wants it like Rook does. He's the lamb, but Rook's not the butcher; he's the slaughter itself and Thom's giving himself over to it.

He doesn't know what Rook's thinking, what exactly he wants, and maybe it's shock and blood loss combined, but Thom's going to give it to him, even if it kills him.


End file.
